


God Says There Are No Accidents

by isaac richard (isaacrichard)



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Friendship/Love, Gen, Post-Canon, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacrichard/pseuds/isaac%20richard
Summary: "I wouldn't be me. And I wouldn't have you." - Elliot Alderson, 408 Request TimeoutMr. Robot finally shares his side of the story.
Relationships: Elliot Alderson & Mr. Robot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	God Says There Are No Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> obsessed with the idea of robot getting to heal, too. you know having edward's face must fuck him up.

“Why am I here?” Mr. Robot’s voice is gruff, like he had just been awoken from a long sleep.

Krista supposes that’s not too far from the truth – Elliot had even said, “ _He’ll be pissy if you make me wake him up,”_ as if the alter had been hibernating.

“We’ve hit a wall,” Krista says, no pretense. “Elliot and I. He only remembers so much, so – “

“You want me to tell you what really happened that day,” Mr. Robot cuts her off, his voice soft and dead-sounding. Disgust drips, thick and sickly, from his every word.

“He doesn’t remember all of it, and what he does remember isn’t accurate. You figured that out the second he said his dad pushed him out the window, didn’t you?”

“I – I mean –“ Krista trips over her words, because she had come to that exact conclusion many months ago. The picture she had of Edward and Magda Alderson just didn’t line up with shoving kids out windows – it was much, much more insidious than that.

“You’re right,” Mr. Robot goes on. “He’s not supposed to see that – not any more than he’s already seen. So, I guess your job is to convince me to share, right? To get me to be a willing sheep corralled on your armchair, to buy into the pseudoscience that you’ve made your living in? Is that right? Get me to share my deepest, darkest secrets – or Elliot’s, that is.”

Krista is beyond startled – and having flashbacks of the last time it had been just her and Mr. Robot. Would he actually do something this time? Or would Elliot jump back in before he had the chance?

Should she be thinking about defending herself?

Mr. Robot leans in close, as close as he can to Krista without leaving the couch, and sucks angrily at his teeth. “So, convince me, then.”

“Mr. Robot –“

“No!” Mr. Robot’s eyes flash dangerously. “Go on! Please, fucking tell me why I should share that with you, or anybody at all – especially when you’re going to turn around and tell him anyway! Explain it to me!”

“Mr. Robot, I’m going to need you to lower your voice,” Krista says, calm, though her heart hammers away in her chest. “If you would rather you and Elliot discuss this together –“

“Not a fucking chance,” Mr. Robot says abruptly. “You wanna tell him what that motherfucker did to us? _Really_ did to us? Because what Elliot knows – it’s the tip of the fucking iceberg, lady. You wanna be the one responsible for his descent into the nuthouse? Because it sure as hell isn’t gonna be _me_.”

Mr. Robot pauses for a second, until Elliot’s heart is beating somewhat normally again. Krista’s gaze on him is level, cool and collected. He shakes his head wildly, like a rearing bull.

“I know all you want to do is help him,” she says, gentle. “Both of you have told me that. You love each other very much, that’s plain to see.”

Krista frowns. “But we can’t hide things from the ones we love. It’s not fair to anyone. Trust me – a man named Michael Hanson taught me that lesson.”

Mr. Robot snorts, despite himself. “Wasn’t that guy’s real name _Lenny?”_

Krista snickers behind a manicured hand. “Yes, I think it was.”

Mr. Robot sighs deeply, drags a hand across his face. He feels half-ready to cry, but there was about a snowball’s chance of that ever happening, let alone here.

“It’s not pretty,” he says, resigned. It was never going to stay a secret forever. Nothing ever did, no matter how hard he tried.

“I don’t think any of us expected it to be,” Krista says. She clears her throat. “Can you tell me about the first memory you have? One that’s just yours, and not Elliot’s? I think if we can establish when you came to be, we can go from there.”

Mr. Robot sighs deeply, thinking to himself that _shit, they were really doing this_. “Most of my memories are the ugly ones,” he says softly. “Elliot kept the movies and ice cream – and I kept what came after.”

He looks up at Krista, brow furrowed. “I need you to understand; that’s the whole point of me. My whole purpose is to do that for him, to be strong when he can’t. So, you trying to get me to just hand it over…”

“It feels as though I’m taking your purpose,” Krista finishes, when he trails off.

Mr. Robot runs two hands through his hair, not meeting her eyes. He's well aware of how Elliot-esque it looks. "Yeah," he murmurs. 

“But you understand that’s not what this is, don’t you? This is the only way Elliot will ever heal from his trauma,” she says.

“Yeah,” Robot says quietly. “I know.”

He takes a breath. And another, and another, and another, working up courage. Krista waits patiently, carefully – watching him closely. She was wise enough to know that loose cannons don’t tighten _that_ quickly.

“I’ll tell you how I remember that day,” Robot says. Krista nods for him to go ahead.

“Elliot’s mom had a saying: ‘ _God says there are no accidents…’_ ”

_“It was an accident!” Edward’s voice, falling over himself to get downstairs, where Magda is already rushing to her son, barefoot in the snow._

_“God says there are no accidents!” If the crash of the broken window and the thud of a boy landing in the snow didn’t bring out the neighbors, her shrill screams surely did._

_Elliot was unconscious before ever hitting the ground. Mr. Robot – nameless and newly born – struggles away from Edward, unaware of how young and weak the body is. The searing pain in their arm is an afterthought – Robot kicks and struggles, Edward’s arms around him like burning branches._

_“Alright, kiddo, calm down,” Edward murmurs, but Robot does no such thing. He attempts to wriggle free, terrified and confused, not knowing who or what he was – only that he felt an inhuman amount of hatred for the man trying to lift him from the freezing ground._

_The hands around him reminds him of something else, something hard to grasp – late at night, bedroom door creaking open, large, rough hands around a skinny child’s soft waist. The images and the feelings mean nothing – they don’t belong to Robot, not yet – but the anger they give way to consumes him._

_He fights until he can fight no more, eight-year-old adrenaline giving way to cold, empty pain._

“I don't know anything about God,” Mr. Robot whispers. “But I know what happened that day wasn't an accident. Elliot jumped, and I took the fall."

He smirks. "That's a theme for us, isn't it?" 

Krista simply nods, knowing he wasn't done speaking, in all her long-time therapist wisdom.

He exhales shakily. "I didn't even know why I hated him. Not back then. Elliot sure didn't – he actually didn't trust me, at first, because I hated Edward so much. Can you believe that shit?" 

Mr. Robot sighs. "But that anger, that was my own. If that's what you're looking for."

“You remembered the things Elliot blocked out,” Krista says. “You hated him because you had good reason to.” 

“Yeah,” Robot nods. He smiles, dull and empty, not reaching his eyes. “I hated him, and I have his face.”

Krista nods. “Elliot mentioned that you resemble his father. That must hurt.”

“ _Resemble?”_ Mr. Robot laughs. “I’m his spitting fucking image. Resemble, ha! I wish I only _resembled_ the motherfucker.”

“Every day, I have to remind myself that I’m not him – that Elliot doesn’t think I’m him, because he doesn’t. He’s dead and gone, and we lived. We survived.”

Mr. Robot’s façade breaks, if only for a moment. Krista watches the internal error as it corrects itself – his face snaps back to neutral much too quickly, as if the moment had never happened at all.

“If I don’t, I end up feeling like his ghost. And I’ll die before I live as an echo of Edward Alderson.”

Krista shakes her head. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Robot. Nothing will ever make what happened right.”

“No, it won’t,” Mr. Robot mumbles. “Evil will always exist. Why we got saddled down with so much of it, that fucking beats me. It was the cards we were dealt. Now it’s just a matter of getting through the game.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Krista says. “But I hope to help you reach the point where it’s more than just getting through – life is meant for living, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t know,” Robot whispers. “Feels like I don’t know anything anymore. I just want the kid to have some semblance of normalcy – especially now.”

“Now? Why now, specifically?” Krista asks.

“Now that we have the chance,” Mr. Robot murmurs. “Now that the only thing in our way is ourselves – it was always outside forces, before. Now, before anything else hits the fan, and we have the chance.”

He sighs, watching Krista process this. He runs a hand through his hair, replaces his cap. “Can I go now?”

“I suppose,” Krista says, voice careful. “But before Elliot comes back, can I ask you something?”

Mr. Robot gives her an odd look. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this whole time?”

She replies with a rueful smile. “Did Elliot know, when he was a child? You mentioned he didn’t trust you, at first – meaning he was aware of you?”

Mr. Robot shrugs. “He didn’t _really_ know, not until after Edward died. I think he thought I was an imaginary friend, or a hallucination. Which was a good enough guess, for the time.

But after his father kicked it – yeah, I showed myself. I wanted him to know that even if he felt like he had no one else in the world, he had me. He christened me Mr. Robot – and that was it. Been here ever since.”

“You went through all that for him,” Krista murmurs. “You remembered and held on to those terrible things for him. You continued to put yourself in the thick of it for him. He’s lucky to have someone who loves him so much.”

“I already told you – it’s my purpose. My whole existence is for him,” Robot says.

“Thank you for being there for him,” Krista says. “I hope you come see me again.” They share a long look – and then he’s gone. Even Elliot’s body language shifts as he comes back to himself, scrunching back in from Mr. Robot’s much more relaxed posture.

He blinks. Krista blinks.

“So,” Elliot says. “What’d he say?”


End file.
